Page 10 of The Accidental Nanny

I send her a text.

Hi, Gemma, it’s Alex. I’m in desperate need of a nanny for my two children. It will be from 7 a.m. until 7 p.m. Sometimes I may require you to work weekends. I need you to take the children to school and clean the house. The salary is fifty thousand a year. I need you to start ASAP. Alex.

I set my phone down and sip my coffee, but I get a response almost straight away.

Please send me your address.

I text back with my details and Gemma responds again.

I’ll see you Monday.

I sigh with relief and look over at my children, I hope I’m doing the right thing. I don’t have much time

Gemma

Twenty minutes earlier

My head is pounding; how much did I have to drink last night? I don’t remember getting home. A loud banging on my bedroom door isn’t helping matters.

“What?” I shout, ready to kill the person waking me up. Brody storms into my room. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, breakfast is almost ready.”

So, he’s just being a jerk as usual.

“Did you hear back from the sugar daddy last night?” he teases.

“Not yet, but I will.” I wink at my brother. “Pass me my dressing gown, please,” I ask him.

“What did your last slave die of?”

He stands at the door in his tennis outfit with his arms crossed. Oh, now he is asking for it.

“I’m naked,” I warn him as I start pulling back my quilt. I’m not going to give in; he doesn’t seem to move, either. It’s not until my legs slip from underneath the blanket, he throws me the gown.

“That wasn’t hard.” Slipping it on under my quilt, I get out of bed and head into my bathroom.

After my long shower, I’m refreshed and relaxed. At least I was until I find Brody is still in my room, lying on my bed with his tennis shoes on. They’re filthy, and my lovely white silk bedsheets are covered in mud and stinking man sweat. More importantly, my phone in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Running over, I grab it from him.

“Your password was far too easy to guess, but chill. Sorry, I deleted a message by accident, but Alex from last night wants to give you a job.”

My eyes light up and I can’t contain my smile. “He wants me?”

“Yes, Monday morning seven a.m. It’s for forty hours a week, maybe more.”

“You’re kidding me. Hang on, seven a.m.? Don’t you mean p.m. I’m confused… He wants me to go over. He’s not just going to send me stuff?”

“No, a.m. as in before work. He wants you to earn it.”

“Oh… okay.” It wasn’t what I’d expected, but it’s a job, and an easy one at that.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gemma

On Monday morning, I put the address into my sat-nav, which directs me to Clive Street. When I reach the destination—a large house with electric gates.